


Chances

by mrs_leary (julie)



Category: Merlin (TV) RPF
Genre: Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-04-10
Updated: 2009-04-10
Packaged: 2017-10-28 06:20:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/304680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julie/pseuds/mrs_leary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The fifth and last season of Merlin wrapped two months before. In all their years of working together, Colin and Bradley never managed to get together. But maybe, with the last episode screening on the BBC that evening, they have one last chance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chances

♦  


## Saturday 15 December 2012

  
Colin’s phone rang, and he checked the display. Bradley. Which was somewhat unexpected, as he hadn’t heard directly from Bradley James since the final season of _Merlin_ had wrapped in October in France. There had been that moment at the wrap party when Bradley had smiled sadly, wistfully at Colin from across the cliché of a crowded room, and then there had been Bradley’s generic over–the–top boisterousness on the Eurostar – and they had parted at St Pancras, just two more people in a crowd of hungover cast and crew. Two people with no particular connection, no reason to seek each other out for a more personal farewell. And that, Colin had thought, had been that.

Apparently not. On the fifth ring, just as the call was about to go to voicemail, Colin hit the answer button. ‘Hey.’

‘Hey,’ Bradley replied. ‘Colin. How are you?’

‘Yeah, fine. You?’

‘Fine, yeah.’

Bradley left a pause, which Colin didn’t break. It was up to the caller to state his business. Surely. Wasn’t it? Or was Colin just being a bit resentful? He opened his mouth, intending to ask something vague about Bradley’s current film work.

But Bradley said, ‘Look, the final episode’s showing tonight.’

‘Yeah.’ Colin glanced at the clock on the wall. It would start in about three hours, if the clock wasn’t too far wrong. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d checked it, or come to think of it whether he’d even adjusted it for summer time.

‘Well, d’you wanna watch it? Together?’

‘Oh.’ _Really_ somewhat unexpected, yes, seeing as they’d all been sent DVDs of the last few episodes not so long ago. ‘Um, OK.’

‘Can I come round to yours…?’

Colin looked about him. Everything was a comfortable mess, of course, but he didn’t suppose Bradley would expect anything different. ‘Yeah, all right.’

‘Cool! I’ll see you a bit before seven, then.’

And the phone went dead before Colin even had a chance to check whether Bradley had his address.

♦

But obviously he did, for at five to seven there was Bradley James on his doorstep with a six–pack of Corona bottles in hand. ‘Hey,’ Bradley greeted him with a bright smile which soon faltered a bit.

They considered each other carefully for a long moment, as if trying to find any changes and work out whether they were significant or not. Bradley was still so utterly beautiful. No one had any right to be that beautiful. Beyond that, he seemed a little… not older. More serious, perhaps? Or was that just because he was almost as wary as Colin felt? Colin was sure he himself looked older, and of course he’d let his beard grow in since spending all those months as clean–shaven young Merlin.

‘So,’ Bradley eventually said. ‘Um…’ Lifting a quizzical brow.

Colin belatedly stepped back out of the way. ‘Hey, yeah, come in.’

Then the show itself saved them from any really difficult moments, because there was only time to grab two of the Coronas, put the rest in the fridge, and settle on the sofa in front of the tv before _Merlin_ was starting for the last time with John Hurt’s familiar intonation.

♦

The episode – and the final season, the whole show – ended with a long look exchanged between a proudly beaming Merlin and a regal Arthur whose satisfaction slowly slipped away into poignancy, fear, misgivings – fading out on a two–shot of them.

Bradley and Colin were silent as the credits rolled. Colin wasn’t quite game enough to test the theory, but he suspected that Bradley was as moved as he was. Colin turned off the tv, and went to fetch two more of Bradley’s Coronas. They each took a long contemplative mouthful.

‘I meant to ask,’ Colin eventually said. ‘What did Julian and James want from you in that last scene? Because the rest of us were told to play that completely happy, no complications.’

‘Yeah,’ was all Bradley said at first.

‘There’s Arthur,’ Colin expanded, ‘already King of Camelot, having just been crowned High King of Albion. All the people he cares about most around him.’ Gwen and Lancelot had acknowledged the depth of their feelings for each other, but promised themselves to remain true to their beloved Arthur. Gaius was still there, a reliable valued old mentor. Even Morgana was back on the side of the good guys, though the truce between her and Arthur had proven somewhat problematic. As for Merlin, he was pretty much established as Arthur’s other half after all they’d been through together. Two sides of one coin, indeed. ‘Arthur’s achieved everything he’s wanted, and yet there’s this profound sadness about the whole thing. All due to one look from you.’

‘Well, you remember they had me play it happy, too. For, like, twenty takes. And it’s a kids show. I figured that’s what they’d go with, they’d end on a high note.’

‘Yeah…’

‘But then they got me to do that one last take. With Arthur foreseeing somehow that it’s all going to go horribly wrong.’

‘And that’s what they used.’

Bradley took another swig of beer. ‘It’s been a pretty amazing ride, hasn’t it?’

‘The show? Yeah. I can’t believe… I almost can’t believe how lucky we were. Well, speaking for myself, anyway. I wasn’t anybody, and they gave me _this_. Five years later, I can pick and choose the work I want to do. I never _ever_ thought –’

‘Me, neither,’ Bradley confirmed.

They were silent again for a while.

Eventually Colin asked, ‘What were you thinking about? If you managed all that – if you set this final bittersweet tone for the whole show, in just _one_ take – how did you do it? What did you draw on?’

‘Well,’ Bradley said, shifting a bit evasively, ‘he’s going to lose them all, one way or another, isn’t he? All the people he loves. And Albion will fall apart again. And to kill Mordred, he has to die as well.’ With an attempt at lightness, Bradley added, ‘You can’t get much more pear–shaped than that.’

‘Yeah. I guess.’ When it seemed Bradley would say nothing more, Colin reached over to clink his beer bottle against Bradley’s in a toast. ‘Well done, though. I almost wanted to…’ He cleared his throat, wondering if he should admit the truth. But then he figured it was worth it, for the sake of a well–deserved compliment. ‘I wasn’t really conscious of what you were doing when we were filming, I was so fucking tired by then. I was too busy beaming like a maniac. But the first time I saw that scene, when they sent out the DVDs – I got tears in my eyes.’

‘Thanks,’ said Bradley, a bit oddly.

Well, his discomfort was to be expected, wasn’t it? Bradley was the bloke into football and beer and girls and _not_ crying. And Colin… wasn’t. Except for the beer.

Bradley swallowed the last of his beer, and put the empty bottle down on the floor by his feet. ‘You know what?’ he asked, staring studiously at the blank tv screen.

‘What?’

‘You know what I was really thinking about when we filmed that?’

‘No.’

‘I was thinking… I was thinking about all our missed chances over the five years. I was thinking about how you and me had never quite happened. And I was thinking that if I didn’t do something at the wrap party that night, then that was my last chance. Our last chance _ever_.’ And he glanced over at Colin. A light glance freighted with every emotion known to man.

‘Bradley…’ he breathed, not quite daring to believe.

Bradley turned his head away, and shifted restlessly.

Colin was suddenly terrified that Bradley would get up, run away. So he did the bravest thing he’d ever done in his entire life, and he reached to take Bradley’s hand into his. He put down his beer, and turned round a little in his seat towards Bradley, reached his other hand over to cradle Bradley’s, while he wove their fingers together, staring down at their flesh meshing in ways he’d never really thought at all possible. ‘Bradley,’ he said very quietly. ‘Every now and then, I thought maybe you were curious…’

‘It was more than curiosity. Wasn’t it?’

‘I, uh – It was more than that for me. I didn’t know about for you.’

‘Why didn’t you ever do anything about it?’

‘Because…’ Colin rolled his eyes in frustration, turned his head away. Came back again. He couldn’t blow this now. Not after five years of carefully Not Talking About It. Not even hinting at it, and definitely avoiding any banter. ‘Because… we didn’t get on very well at first, yeah?’

Bradley tipped his head equivocally to one side, but agreed, ‘Yeah.’

‘We didn’t get on at all. The four Jays seemed completely paranoid about us falling out and ruining everything. I figured they knew better than me what the risks were – maybe I was wrong about that, maybe I should have trusted _us_ rather than them. But I thought that… when it ended, especially if it all went wrong, _that’s_ how it would be again between us. Or even worse. For all the years we had to work together.’

‘I guess,’ Bradley allowed.

‘And we had so much to lose. We were so lucky to be there. Well, like I said, _I_ was. I didn’t want to chance throwing it all away for something that… would probably mean nothing at all to you.’

Bradley grimaced – Colin caught that from under his lowered brow. ‘It wouldn’t have meant nothing.’

‘No?’

‘No. Cos… being with a guy. That’s _way_ out there for me. So it’s not something I would do just for the hell of it. It would have to mean something. It would have to mean a _lot_.’

Bradley’s declaration hung between them for a while.

Eventually Colin realised he’d have to be brave again. He lifted his head to look at his… erstwhile colleague. His friend? Yes, they were friends. Or Bradley wouldn’t even be here. ‘I didn’t know,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Sorry for what?’

‘All our… missed chances.’

‘All right,’ Bradley said with an air of finality, as if they’d now said everything that needed saying, and they were both sorry, they had each accepted the other’s apology – and that was that.

But Colin kept hold of Bradley’s hand. ‘Look, I was just gonna make a curry for dinner. You wanna stay?’

Bradley shot him a look, wary and a bit unhappy. But eventually he nodded. ‘Yeah, curry sounds good.’

Colin nodded, too. ‘Good.’

‘Can you even cook, Morgan?’

And he smiled. It had been far too long since he’d heard that bantering tone. ‘Mate, prepare yourself to be amazed.’

And Bradley laughed. Colin revelled in it. Bradley laughed, and followed him out to the kitchen with no hesitation whatsoever.

♦

Colin fetched the last of the Coronas for them both, while Bradley propped his rear on the table to watch him work. Then Colin started gathering ingredients and implements from the fridge and the cupboards. It was only when he was ready to start chopping that he realised: ‘Ah. No meat. Sorry.’

Bradley shrugged. ‘That’s all right.’

‘We could order in. There’s a good Indian just down the road.’

A wry chuckle. ‘I’m sure I’ll survive for one night.’

‘All right.’ Colin decided to up the proportions of mushrooms and aubergine, to make it as hearty as possible.

‘You know, if I start looking really pale and faint, then you could send out for an emergency steak or something…’

‘Oh, if it’s a _real_ emergency,’ Colin deadpanned, ‘I’m sure I could provide _some_ kind of nutritional animal–based sustenance.’ And he held Bradley’s rather shocked gaze for a moment, and winked.

And then Bradley spluttered into laughter, and all was very right with Colin’s world.

♦

They talked about work while Colin cooked, and then while they both ate – their current projects, past projects, _Merlin_ , hopes and plans for the future. Bradley was on a three–day break from filming a naval drama, an adaptation of one of the Patrick O’Brian novels. ‘I’ll have you know, I look very fetching in my officer’s uniform.’

‘I’m sure you do,’ Colin said appreciatively. He waved his empty fork at Bradley’s hair – which was still a fine full fall of gold… and he really had _no_ right to be that beautiful. ‘I was expecting hair extensions or something, for your ponytail.’

‘Uh, it’s called a _queue_ , thank you,’ he retorted. ‘Anyway, they decided on wigs. Which is a pain for us, but easier for them. And I suppose I don’t have to run around London looking like a reject from an eighties band.’

‘Did they stay with your natural kinda yellow–straw colour?’

Bradley got this pursed lip look and his nostrils flared as he drew in a huffy breath. ‘And _you_ ,’ he said, heavily changing the topic. ‘What are _you_ doing? Playing a yeti or some such character, I suppose? Some abandoned child raised in the wild, with no access to shaving implements, and knowing nothing at all about personal hygiene?’

He chuckled. ‘Aye, I’ve been running wild.’ Colin was actually half serious. Merlin’s relative youth and innocence had become a bit of a drain towards the end. ‘I’m in rehearsals for this play that doesn’t open until February, and they don’t care. Not until it opens, anyway. You know I never shave unless I have to.’

‘And having to only involves roles, does it?’

‘Yeah, I guess.’

‘You’re not worried about scratching your dates half to death?’

Colin snorted in surprise, and looked elsewhere. ‘No. Leastwise, I never had any complaints.’ When he looked back, he saw that Bradley was considering him, perhaps wondering whether to push the humour further, or to satisfy his curiosity with a request for details, or to make some observation that Colin couldn’t even guess at. They had both finished eating by now, and were still sitting at the table, across from each other – Colin leaning back slumped low in his chair, while Bradley leaned forward on his elbows. Colin decided to push a little… He sat up properly, so they were closer. And he said in a low confiding tone, ‘It’s softer than it looks.’

‘Is it?’ And, as he must, Bradley reached out a hand to cup Colin’s jaw, with the heel of his hand fitting perfectly to Colin’s chin and his fingers pushing up towards his earlobe – and Bradley rubbed a little, back and forth, testing Colin’s beard against his palm and finger–pads. ‘Yeah, I guess it is.’

Maybe – _Maybe_ if the table hadn’t been between them, Bradley would have pushed the humour or the curiosity further still, and kissed him. Just to see whether the beard would scratch the tender skin around his mouth.

A moment passed between them. They were looking directly at each other. Bradley had no right to have eyes that blue, that perfect summer–holiday shade of warm infinite blue. ‘Blue sky eyes,’ Colin murmured, to see if he’d get away with it.

‘Yeah,’ Bradley quietly agreed. ‘They go nice with yellow straw hair. I’m as pretty as a picture. Pity it’s a landscape.’

Colin snorted. ‘Nah, it’s not straw – it’s been spun into gold already. Like in the fairy tale. Rumpelstiltskin.’

‘Isn’t there some fairy tale about black ebony hair and white creamy skin and sapphire blue eyes? Some Irish story, maybe, for your Irish colouring.’

His heartbeat notched up a gear. Bradley’s hand hadn’t dropped from Colin’s face yet. ‘Um, you’re thinking of Snow White. Only it was skin as white as snow, and lips as red as blood.’

‘Snow’s too cold. You’re like cream. And your lips aren’t red, they’re this delicious pink colour, like…’ Bradley searched for an image. But then – alas – he seemed to realise he’d gone too far, and let his hand fall. Sat back, folding his arms across his chest. ‘Well, I don’t know. I can’t even see them beyond all the foliage.’

‘It’s not like I’m growing ivy here,’ Colin protested. But the moment had gone and couldn’t be recreated. He restrained a sigh, and picked up their plates and cutlery, carried them to the sink. ‘D’you want another drink or something?’

‘Um…’

Here it came. Bradley was about to make his excuses. Colin kept his back turned, cos he had to keep this light, he had to let him go. It was amazing that they’d even reconnected.

‘You got any plans for tonight?’ Bradley asked. ‘It’s Saturday. Were you going out?’

‘No plans. You?’

‘Not really. You wanna watch a DVD or something? I saw a whole pile in there.’

Oh. Colin turned back around, though his arms were crossed a bit defensively. ‘Sure. That’d be good.’

‘You wanna make a pot of coffee or something, then, and I’ll go pick one?’

Colin suddenly grinned. ‘Yeah, sure. If you’re game. I’d like to be able to warn you off the top shelf or something, but they’re all mixed in together.’

Bradley actually kinda gaped at him for a moment. Before he gathered himself. His eyes sparked with intrigue. ‘You mean, there’s gay porn in there…?’

‘Yeah, some. But _don’t you dare_.’

‘No. No. Of course not.’ A flash of mischievous blue sky. ‘We’re not quite ready for _that_ yet.’ And he dashed off before Colin could throw something at him.

♦

When Colin came through into the front room with a pot of coffee and two mugs, he found Bradley sitting there cross–legged by the haphazard collection of DVDs, carefully reading the blurb on a back cover. ‘This one isn’t porn, is it?’ Bradley asked, holding it up.

 _Latter Days._ Huh. _Opposites attract_ , was the tag. ‘No, actually that’s a really good movie. But not for tonight. I always cry.’ There. He’d said it. Sometimes he cried. None of this _I got tears in my eyes_ macho stuff.

‘Ends badly, does it?’ Bradley asked, apparently not caring too much about the crying.

‘No. Bittersweet.’ Colin took a moment to sort out the coffee. ‘You know how the real love stories are all tragedies? These guys go through the tragedy and get to the other side. But it’s still…’

‘Difficult, yeah.’

_Harrowing._

‘OK,’ said Bradley, ‘you wanna try something obvious, then? First _Lord of the Rings_ movie. Glad to see you have the extended version.’

‘Sure.’

♦

‘Lots of gorgeous guys in this one,’ Bradley observed once everyone had reached Rivendell.

‘True.’

‘So, if you had your pick, which of them would you do?’

Colin cast him a hard glance from where he was slumped on one half of the sofa. ‘Is that a trick question?’

‘No,’ said Bradley, sitting there upright and apparently innocent.

‘Well, any of them who’d have me, of course.’

‘Slut.’ This was said with an odd combination of fondness and admiration and the obligatory condemnation.

‘Prude,’ he responded in much the same tones.

‘Ian McKellen would have you.’

‘You’re only saying that cos he’s gay.’

‘Well, _yeah_. Duh!’

‘He might not like me, you know, even if I do have the right equipment.’

Bradley just cast him a dry look, which was absurdly flattering. ‘Anyway,’ Bradley added, ‘I think the relevant question here is where _you_ draw the line in terms of age.’

‘I don’t mind about age,’ Colin said. ‘I like experience. A man who knows exactly what he’s doing, and all the variations, all the possibilities… that’s something. Who cares about grey hair and wrinkles compared to that?’

Bradley was gaping at him again.

Colin winked.

Bradley just snorted, and shook his head. ‘Slut,’ he said again, for good measure. Though he sounded a little less sure of himself.

Colin persisted. ‘Don’t you find that, with older women?’

‘Shut up and watch the movie, Morgan.’

Colin watched Bradley from the corner of his eye for a while after that. Wondering if he could also now sing the praises of innocence, of the joys of rediscovering things anew – or if that would be a bit too obvious.

♦

After a while, Colin confessed, ‘It’d be Aragorn, if you really want to know. If I had my pick. I’ve been in love with him since I read the books when I was thirteen. I didn’t quite picture him like Viggo, but Viggo’s amazing. If I ever met him… well, I’d be even more stupid with him than you were with Tony.’

Bradley was just looking at him, half wary and half fascinated.

‘That’s why I knew I’d get myself into trouble with you,’ Colin added, keeping his face turned towards the tv.

‘What, uh – Why? I’m not anything like Viggo.’

‘No, but… Aragorn’s a version of Arthur. And I’ve loved him for half my life, literally. All the half with sex in it.’

‘So, uh –’ Bradley was also staring at the tv now. Colin would put money on the notion that he wasn’t actually seeing anything that was happening on the screen. ‘So, uh, you fell for Arthur.’

‘No.’

Silence. Bradley wasn’t brave enough to ask.

After a while, Colin took a breath, and reached out to hold Bradley’s hand – which grasped his, and tugged – and Bradley said in a gutted voice, ‘Oh god, _come here_ , would you?’

And Colin shifted as if Bradley was magnetic north – Bradley’s arms lifted around him – and suddenly they were holding each other, pressed close and clumsy together in the corner of the sofa – completely misfitting in each other’s hard embrace, but not willing to give an inch to try to make it right – Bradley’s arms around his back, with the fingers of one hand shoved deep into Colin’s hair – their heads tucked in beside each other.

‘I’ve been wanting you,’ Bradley babbled. ‘I’ve been wanting _this_. It _does_ mean something to me, and I have the right equipment for you, but I don’t know _what_ the fuck I’m doing…’

‘That’s all right. That’s fine. I’m wanting you, too.’

And they held each other for long moments while the movie played on.

Until at last Colin lifted his head, and considered his friend’s beautiful face, and Bradley’s gaze was roving over Colin, until his focus finally settled on Colin’s mouth, and Bradley commented inconsequentially, ‘Raspberry smoothies.’

‘What?’

‘Your lips are pink like raspberry smoothies. I imagine they’re that delicious, too.’

‘Oh.’ Colin’s heartbeat was running thin and fast. ‘Does that mean you want to –’

‘Taste them,’ Bradley said firmly, despite his cheeks blushing and the rest of him paling. ‘Yes.’

And Colin leaned in closer, even as Bradley shifted towards him, and their mouths met at last – and for a moment it was awkward until they found the right angle, the right pace and pressure – but then it became a more instinctive, heated thing, because they both did at least know how to kiss. God, it was good. Colin might have feared, after all these years of anticipation, that the reality would fall far short of his imagination, but that wasn’t the case at all. Bradley’s lips were clever and generous, and then his tongue began boldly lapping as if hunting for a hint of raspberries, then he pushed just the tip between Colin’s lips, and Colin’s mouth parted for him with a sluttish groan, and they finished the kiss like that, with Bradley boldly plundering him.

They parted, both panting a little. Bradley was looking at him longingly, the embarrassed blush having transformed into a needy flush. There was still a hint of wariness, though. But, then, maybe everyone was a bit wary before they had sex. Colin tried to remember the other men he’d been with, the expressions on their faces during those last moments before finally committing themselves to the act – and found he couldn’t. All he could see with his eyes, with his mind, his imagination, his memory – all he could see was Bradley.

‘All right?’ he asked Bradley, no doubt betraying the fact he was utterly unable to catch his breath.

‘Yeah. D’you think we can…?’

‘Yeah. If you –’

Bradley suddenly turned sardonic. ‘If I can what? I think, after all this time, I can promise to get it up for you.’

‘That’s not what I meant.’

The embarrassment had returned, along with a bit of mulishness. ‘What, then?’

‘I meant, if you really want to go ahead right now. Tonight. Cos we can wait, if you have any doubts.’

‘We’ve spent five years waiting,’ Bradley observed distantly.

‘You thought the wrap party was your last chance. Maybe you think _this_ is your last chance. But that’s not so, Bradley. You don’t have to rush it. Far as I’m concerned, there’ll always be another chance. For you.’

Bradley was gazing at him longingly again.

‘Unless…’

Fear and misgivings. It seemed that everything was changeable within Bradley, from one moment to the next. ‘Unless what?’

Colin shrugged. ‘Unless you had someone to be faithful to.’

 _‘Oh god,’_ Bradley muttered, reaching out and hauling him close again. Pressing their mouths together hard for a long painful moment. Until he pulled away and said, ‘ _Bed_ , Morgan. _Now_.’

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Yes.’

♦

They were lying naked together on the sheets, naked and exposed and open to each other. Both of them hard and needy. Kissing, lying on their sides with their arms around each other, pressed together, rocking back and forth a little as they each pushed against the other, each lost their balance momentarily before pushing back. Bradley’s hands as hungry as his mouth, though he hadn’t yet explored further than Colin’s head, shoulders, arms, back. God, it was _good_.

While he could still string a few coherent thoughts together, Colin leant up on an elbow, caressed that beautiful face. ‘What are you wanting?’ he whispered. ‘Is there something in particular?’

‘Anything,’ Bradley replied fervently. _‘Anything.’_ And those blue sky eyes let him gaze down into infinite depths, gazing down plummeting down all the way into Bradley’s soul. He meant it. Bradley was already so far gone that Colin could really do anything he wanted with him right now…

Colin shivered. Restrained his runaway imagination. Reached a hand to trail fingers around Bradley’s hard cock, already damp with his anticipated orgasm. ‘Touch me,’ Colin asked. ‘Touch me, too.’

And Bradley reached to do that with no hesitation at all.

And that’s how it was the first time. Colin gazing down on his friend, watching those blue eyes ignite as they each carefully brought the other off. Hands gentle on silken skin over needy hardness. As simple, as profound as that. Bradley shuddering at last, spilling over with a deep moan, Colin spinning it out, seeing him through it – and when Bradley was done, just pushing over onto him a little, and thrusting into Bradley’s hand, once, twice, and on the third thrust he cried out and came quaking.

♦

They held each other afterwards, heavy and hot and damp and satiated. It was wonderful. Bradley’s eyes were closed, but he was smiling contentedly like he just couldn’t help himself, like he might never quit.

‘All right?’ Colin asked after a while.

Bradley just chuckled low in his throat. Which sounded like _yes_.

Colin wasn’t anywhere near ready yet, but he was assuming there’d be a second time. So he asked, ‘D’you want me to go shave?’

Bradley’s eyes flew open. He was right _there_ now, on the surface rather than in the depths. But that in itself was a fine thing. ‘God. You’d do that for me? You’d go shave off your beard?’

‘Yeah, if you want.’ Colin trailed his fingertips across Bradley’s mouth and chin and cheeks. No harm done, or not yet. The skin was a little flushed and tender, but not scratched. Just like he’d been kissing a lot. Which he had. ‘Um, if you really can’t bear the ivy…’

‘I can bear it,’ Bradley said roughly, and dragged him close for another kiss.

♦

The second time, Colin swiped a little lube over both their cocks, and lay himself down over Bradley, carefully matching them up, letting his weight pin them together. Starting slowly rocking his hips so that they thrust against each other, cock against cock. Bradley seemed a little stunned at first, those blue eyes overcast.

‘All right?’ Colin asked.

‘Yes. Yeah, I just…’ Bradley swallowed, and his eyes cleared, his hands spread firmer into the small of Colin’s back, just where his hip movements pivoted. ‘I never guessed… I just thought that…’ He sighed and shook his head. ‘Dunno.’

‘You don’t know?’ Colin stilled, considered him carefully. ‘Want me to stop?’

‘No! _God_ , no.’ Bradley shivered a little, then visibly struggled to find the words. ‘I just thought… Well, I didn’t think it’d be this intense. Just hands. Just this. But it is. Fucking intense.’

‘Yeah,’ Colin breathed with great satisfaction. ‘It is.’ He started moving again, watching as Bradley began losing himself once more, those blue sky eyes gradually opening up their infinite depths to him again.

After a while Bradley began trying to meet his thrusts, trying to answer them. They found a gorgeous rhythm between them.

Then Colin murmured, ‘You wanna drive?’

And Bradley’s eyes ignited, and he pushed up and over, pinning Colin down and lying between Colin’s thighs, arranging his cock alongside Colin’s – one hand holding Colin’s hands against the pillow over his head. And he thrust in a harder rhythm – driving, yes – and it was so fucking intense, god, so incredibly fucking intense –

– until suddenly it was no longer enough, Colin was empty and needy and wanted to be filled, so he begged, ‘Fuck me?’

And Bradley groaned from his very core, needing that _so much_ – and he was kneeling up, his hands at Colin’s hips, and he could have just pushed right in – but he gathered himself and muttered, ‘Rubbers?’

And Colin groaned, both grateful for Bradley’s sense and resentful about the necessity for it – and reached a hand to find one in the top drawer, luckily nearby – and they opened the packet and fumbled the thing onto Bradley together –

Then Bradley was grasping Colin’s hips hard, dragging his butt up onto his thighs – Colin wrapping his legs around Bradley’s waist, lifting himself –

– and Bradley pushed down deep all the way inside him with the loudest shuddering groan – _‘Christ!’_

And his trembling right hand wrapped around Colin, and they found a rhythm again – ragged now, desperate, not gorgeous, but all the better for it – and managed a few thrusts, Colin meeting every move of Bradley’s, the back of his thighs and his butt wanting to feel Bradley’s skin as much as his arse wanted to be filled with Bradley’s cock.

‘So fucking good, Morgan,’ Bradley was muttering darkly, ‘so fucking intense, _god_ , I could do this all fucking night –‘

Except that Colin came almost despite himself, and Bradley yelled out as Colin clenched down hard on him, and then he was coming, too – and they rutted wild together for a while.

♦

It seemed that Bradley was so out of it afterwards that he’d never move again from his satiated sprawl. But once Colin had sorted everything and turned the lights off and resettled, then Bradley shifted heavily up behind him, and spooned him, and lost himself in the depths of sleep.

Colin lay awake for long moments, just listening to that comforting snuffling breath at his nape. But then the darkness approached him, too, and at last he surrendered.

♦  


## Sunday

  
They exchanged a few messy kisses on waking, then parted, and got up, and met again over coffee at the kitchen table.

After about half a mug, Bradley was revived enough to ask, ‘You got plans for today?’

‘Yeah, I got plans.’

‘Oh.’ Bradley looked mournfully disappointed.

Colin chuckled. ‘Breakfast. More coffee. Showers. Back to bed. Those kind of plans.’

‘Oh!’ Bradley smiled brightly.

‘You?’

‘I like _your_ plans.’

‘Well, you go have a shower now while I get breakfast sorted, and then we can head back to bed a bit quicker.’

Bradley gulped down the rest of his coffee, and dashed off like a thing possessed.

Colin laughed. Right now, all was very right with Colin’s world. Later could be worried about later.

♦

Colin was going down on Bradley, half listening to Bradley’s increasingly filthy commentary, and half wondering if it were possible, desirable, or indeed politically correct to fall for someone’s cock… He was becoming really rather fond of Bradley’s cock, almost as fond as he was of its owner. Both were beautiful, perfect, everything they should be. Bradley James was amazing – gorgeous, funny, surprisingly intelligent, goodhearted. Loyal. Colin had thought about the man plenty over the years. So now he felt free to think about his cock instead.

It was a goodly length, but most importantly it was delightfully _thick_. Whole and eager and proud. Not to mention apparently rather fond of Colin, too, which was a rather key consideration just now. It responded to his every touch, whether he licked or bit or sucked or nibbled – it twitched and it grew harder and harder, darker and darker. Until at last Colin listened to Bradley’s pleas, and rolled a rubber over it before settling in to suck him to completion.

After which he got rid of the rubber again and lay there for a while, with his face pressed against the damp softening flesh which he was sure would rise for him again soon, and he decided he didn’t care if it was politically correct or not. Colin Morgan was a lost cause. God, he was gonna miss Bradley when he left. And he was gonna miss Bradley’s cock.

‘Hey,’ Bradley eventually said gently. ‘Come back up here.’ And as Colin shifted up to lie against him, Bradley whispered, ‘I missed you.’

‘I was right here. Well, just down _there_ , anyway.’

‘I like having you in my arms.’

Colin kissed him for that.

When they broke apart again, Bradley observed, ‘I guess that’s what sixty–niners are for. Best of all worlds.’

And Colin kissed him some more.

♦

They didn’t get out of bed for hours. They were hardly out of each other’s arms. They ran out of Colin’s admittedly un–ambitious supply of condoms, used the one that wasn’t past its use–by date from Bradley’s wallet, then decided to just play it safe rather than bother heading out to the nearest supermarket.

♦

At some stage during the long afternoon, Bradley asked, ‘You got plans for the rest of your life?’

Colin decided that he couldn’t have heard that properly, or if he had it was just one of Bradley’s jokes. So he kind of chuckled into Bradley’s shoulder, though it really wasn’t very funny.

‘I mean it.’

Colin lifted his head. Looked into those warm blue sky eyes. Lost himself for a while.

‘I don’t think I’m leaving now. Ever. Thought you should know.’

‘Uh… When are you due back in Portsmouth?’ he asked weakly.

‘You _know_ what I’m talking about, Morgan.’

‘No. Not really. Or I don’t believe you, or something.’

‘Why not?’

‘Uh… because you’re straight?’

‘Obviously not entirely straight. Not for the last five years.’

Colin pulled away, sat up cross–legged. Frowned to himself. Complained, ‘I’m hardly worth giving up girls for. Anyway, it doesn’t work like that.’

Bradley just looked at him blankly for a long moment. And then he erupted into an ironic laugh with tinges of hysteria. And apparently he tried to stop, but the laughter just kept welling up within him, and Bradley seemed to have no control over it.

Colin waited through that. He’d been laughed at before.

But eventually Bradley said, ‘You should let me be the judge of that.’

‘Right.’

‘Here I am. At your side. In your bed.’

‘Yeah. But for today. Not for ever.’

Bradley reached to grasp his hand. Insisted on holding it, when Colin would have pulled away. ‘You know what? I’ve had more sex in the past twenty–four hours than I’ve had in, oh… the two years before that.’

Colin glanced at their little pile of discarded condom wrappers, did some maths, factored in the times they hadn’t needed rubbers, divided that by twenty–four months to get an impossibly tiny number. Looked at Bradley with a raised brow.

‘It’s true. And it all really dried up after _Merlin_ wrapped. I thought that was that, you and me never happened, so I’d walk away, and get on with my life.’ Bradley sighed. ‘Turned out I was less interested than ever.’

‘Well, uh… yeah.’ Colin admitted over a dry throat, ‘I haven’t been getting much, either.’

Bradley smiled wistfully up at him from where he lay. ‘So, I think we’d better give this a go. Don’t you?’

But Colin was still frowning. Was it because he found it hard to trust in such enormously good fortune? He felt like maybe he’d just won the lottery. Maybe. Or was the problem simply that it would take him a while to readjust all his expectations of what life would offer him?

Bradley suggested, ‘Give me five years, then. God, we could have been together all this time. Give me five years to make up for all those missed chances. And then maybe I’ll ask for another five.’

‘Bradley, it’s not a matter of –’

‘Isn’t it?’

‘No, it’s, uh…’ He frowned some more, and then shook it off, impatient with himself. Life was giving him everything he could possibly want, and he was arguing over whether to accept it. He tried to explain, ‘Aragorn and Arwen end up together for ever. I never identified myself with either of them. I wasn't even Eowyn, or Faramir. I always thought I’d end up alone. That’s my story. I thought at best I’d fall for someone I could never have, but I’d spend my life alone.’

‘Then we need a new story,’ said Bradley, ever practical.

Colin smiled, and lifted their joined hands to his mouth for a kiss. All right. He could do this. He cleared his throat, and found his best storytelling voice. ‘Once upon a time, there was a beautiful young man named Bradley, with golden hair and blue sky eyes. And he was so very beautiful and had such a good heart that everyone thought he really was a prince.’

Bradley chuckled, and continued the tale. ‘Then much to Bradley’s surprise, he fell in love with a scruffy young man from Ireland named Colin, with hair as black as ebony – which is what, by the way? – and skin as rich as cream fresh from the dairy, and eyes as blue as sapphires, and lips as delicious as raspberry smoothies…’

Colin felt rather flummoxed. ‘It’s a kind of wood. Did you really mean that?’

‘If ebony’s black – then, yes, I did.’

‘Idiot. I mean about you falling…’

Bradley tugged at Colin’s hand, pulled him back down into his arms. ‘Dunno why everyone thinks _I’m_ the stupid one,’ he muttered, before kissing Colin with a raw passion.

Once the kiss broke, Colin said, ‘And,’ as Bradley’s mouth started working its way down across his beard and onto his throat – ‘they lived happily,’ he managed as that mouth started nibbling across a collarbone – ‘ever after. Is that how it ends?’

‘Yes,’ said Bradley, looking up from where he’d been nuzzling at Colin’s chest, ‘that’s how it ends.’ And he was beaming.

♦


End file.
